In passing through Europe just at this time
and in view of the sure word of prophecy as to
what will transpire there shortly, one feels
much as he might be expected to feel if he
were tenting on the slopes of an active volcano,
such as Vesuvius, where the continually
rising smoke gives evidence that the elements
of destruction are close at hand and may at
any moment suddenly devastate the surrounding
country.

Indeed, as we looked upon that wonderful
mountain, what a type it presented to our minds
of the actual condition of the world, and especially
of Europe, to-day. Upon its green and
pleasant slopes villages are quietly nestled, and
the inhabitants go about their daily avocations
as if unaware of the awful threat of destruction
that continually hovers over them; for above
their heads at the mountain's summit is an immense
crater, three thousand feet in diameter,
from which proceeds a volume of smoke, while the
ruins of the buried cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum
at its base are constant reminders of
its dreadful power. The traveler, in view of
the past as well as of the present impending
danger, almost shudders to pass that way, and
cannot help wondering at the apparent indifference
or unconsciousness of the residents of
that locality, who have become accustomed to
the sight and forgetful of the past in the bustle
[R1369 : page 54]
and confusion of the immediate present.

Just so it is with all Europe. The people
are insecurely slumbering on the slopes of an
active volcano. The smoldering fires of wrath,
of immense proportions, are pent up in the
heart of European nations; and here and there
an opening is found where they issue forth in
volumes that should send the warning alarm to
every thinking mind. And indeed they do:
but What is to be done? is the question--a
question, however, to which there is but one
wise solution, a solution which the Word of God
suggests, but which men are not yet willing to
accept. The Scriptures say, "Be wise now
therefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges
of the earth." (Psa. 2:10.) God's Word furnishes
the only principles which, if put in operation,
would avert the dread calamity now impending.
But these principles of justice and
love will not be accepted until the fearful, but
much needed, chastisement shall force upon men
of all classes and conditions their necessity as
well as their superior value.

At present the national animosities are intense:
[R1369 : page 55]
Russia hates Germany with a zeal akin
to her hatred of the persecuted Jew; and Germany
reciprocates the feeling with equal zeal.
France has no more tender feeling toward Germany,
and Great Britain comes in for a similar
portion. And while the great powers confront
and menace each other, the little powers tremble
in the balances, fearing them all, so that
there is no rest nor security any where. Not
only is there bitter international animosity, but
in every nation there is a strong under-current
of civil strife against the civil, financial and ecclesiastical
powers.

It is noticeable, however, that these animosities
exist more among the intelligent and well-to-do
people abroad than among the very ignorant
and miserably poor. Those of the latter
class have not sufficient enlightenment to
realize their degradation, while those of the
former are ambitious to better their condition
and scarcely know where to set the bounds of
their ambitions. All through Europe, with the
exceptions of Russia and Turkey, we were agreeably
surprised to find the evidences of thrift
and comfort in the home life of the masses of
the people. True, the German farmers seem
to fancy having their cattle under the same roof
with their families, but the proverbial "pig in
the parlor" in Ireland we did not find; nor
was there a pig visible to the naked eye all the
way from Cork to Dublin. Indeed, the majority
of Irish emigrants to this country give
rather an unfair impression to Americans of the
Irish people in general. We were pleased to
find there culture and refinement beyond what
we had anticipated. Our route through Ireland
included Queenstown, Cork, Dublin, Belfast,
Londonderry, Armagh and the intervening
country and smaller towns. Through all that
part of the country--the south, north and east
--we saw no squalor nor misery, though, of
course, there are plenty of poor people and some
very humble homes. From all accounts, our
impressions of the west coast would have been
less favorable, had we found time to go there.
The country is very picturesque and has been
well named the Emerald Isle, from its ever fresh
and beautiful greenness. When, after the monotony
of the sea voyage, we first sighted its
shores under the glow of a glorious sunset, the
picture was indeed beautiful, and can better be
imagined than described; and the flocks of
graceful seagulls that come out to meet the incoming
vessels seemed to be bidding us welcome
as they gaily circled round the ship's
masts and then dived down and gracefully
floated on the water.

The small Irish steamer that conveyed us from
the ocean steamer to the shore at Queenstown
was a neat, pretty vessel, tastefully furnished,
and landed us in Queenstown a little after
10 P.M. Here, and all through Great Britain
and Ireland, they have fine stone docks;
the streets are paved with large flag stones and
the houses here and all through Ireland, both in
the cities and in the country districts, are of
stone. Stone walls are also used, both in the
cities and in the country, for fences. Those
separating farms are low and generally covered
with something green. The little farms all
over the country look neat and well kept, and
the low, one story houses with thatched roofs,
whitewashed outside and with a bit of lace at
the windows, looked cozy and comfortable,
and pretty wild flowers adorned the fields. The
country is a continual succession of low hills
and valleys, divided into small farms, and
presents a pleasing prospect to the eye. The
cities of Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Queenstown
are flourishing and enterprising. Their
good public buildings, private residences, railway
stations, thrifty mercantile business, etc.,
do ample credit to the energy of the Irish people.

We were pleased also to notice the neatness
of personal appearance and suavity of manner
among the people in general, both in the cities
and at every little railway station through the
country, as well as in the hotels, railway carriages,
etc., and at a fair in Armagh, which we
visited specially for the purpose of coming in
contact with the various classes of people there
from the town and surrounding country. On
the whole, our impressions of Ireland were very
favorable; and the rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed,
flaxen-haired babies of Ireland seemed the prettiest
children in the world, until we met some
dark eyed beauties of more southern lands, and
then it was hard to decide which were prettiest.
[R1369 : page 56]

Passing over to Scotland and England, we
saw similar evidences of thrift and comfort;
though in the large cities, tucked away in the
alleys and courts, and up rickety stairways in
old tenement houses, are thousands of wretchedly
poor people whom the feeble hand of benevolent
charity finds it impossible to relieve to
any considerable extent. The Scotch are a serious,
thoughtful people, though not so lighthearted
and happy, apparently, as their Irish
neighbors. They are proud of their inheritance
in the fame of John Knox, and like to call
their country "the land of the Bible and of
John Knox." But we fear this pride has stood
much in the way of their advancement in the
knowledge of the truth, beyond what was due
to the household in John Knox's day. However,
we have great hope for a good harvest yet
from Scotland. In England and Scotland the
manufacturing towns are closely strewn along
the railway lines, and the hum of machinery
and the tall smoke-stacks, as well as the cultivated
farms with their separating green hedges
and neat farm houses, which are of brick in
England and of stone in Scotland, tell of an
industrious, hard-working, energetic people;
while their fine public buildings, private residences,
public accomodations, etc., do them
credit.

Though we passed through England on our
eastward course, we did not tarry there until
our return. Then we halted in London and
in Liverpool, where we were most of the time
among subjects, not of Great Britain, but of
the Kingdom of Heaven; and these, together
with a few more such in other countries, we
need not tell you were, of course, the very
cream of Europe--expecting, too, shortly to be
skimmed off--so that they are not to be considered
as factors in European society, nor representatives
of it. But aside from these dear
ones in Christ, it was indeed truly refreshing,
after our sojourn in the southern countries, to find
ourselves again among the polite and cultured
English; for no where did we meet so commonly
that dignified grace and noble bearing which
always characterize true manhood and womanhood.
Of course, there are all shades of character
in every nation, and, alas, too often outward
grace covers some hideous inner deformity;
but we refer now to our general impressions
of the people as a whole, compared with
the peoples of other nations. Nowhere are
national characteristics more noticeable than
on the great thoroughfares of travel. The polite
and careful attention of busy railway officials,
toward promiscuous strangers whom they
never expect to meet again, is an index of a
noble character--an index specially favorable
on English soil, not only to the heart but also
to the head.

While few English people have a high appreciation
of our late McKinley bill, yet there is
nevertheless a very fraternal feeling among the
masses of the people toward Americans. "Why,"
said an English friend at a hotel table one day,
"there never could be another war between
England and the United States: they are all
our brothers and sisters over there." "Ah," said
another, "America is a fine country, and your
people are doing wonders over there." Again,
as we passed out of a street car in London, a
stranger who overheard some of our conversation
with friends said inquiringly, "Ho!
Americans?" "Yes," we replied; and he
reached out his hand and with a hearty shake
said, emphatically, "Good luck to you."

Well, God bless the English people! welled
up from our full hearts. His blessing is surer
than luck; and we long for the glorious day
when they and all men shall begin to realize it.

Passing through Holland--through Rotterdam,
Amsterdam, the Hague, and thence across
the country to Hanover--we were charmed with
the general appearance and friendly courtesy of
the Dutch, and must say that the Dutchman
stands higher in our estimation than ever before.
In these cities we carefully looked for the
worst quarters as well as the best and the medium,
and we saw no evidence of squalid poverty anywhere.
Order and cleanliness seemed to characterize
every home, and many of the working
people about their daily duties were models of
neatness. At hotels, railway stations, or if inquired
of on the streets, they were uniformly
kind and obliging--we thought specially so to
us, because we were foreigners. One pleasant
faced little woman with white cap and white
[R1370 : page 57]
apron, so commonly worn by working women
there, seeing us halt at the wrong corner for a
street car and intuitively discerning our English
origin, came out of her way to say in
broken English--"Cars no stay still here"--
and to direct us where to stop. A Professor
and his wife from one of the colleges of Amsterdam,
whom we met on a train, manifested a
similar cordiality. In all Holland we failed
to see a single miserably ragged man, woman
or child. Yet the thrift and comfort of this
life and the earthly prosperity, we fear, are the
principal aim of these (in many respects) commendable
people.

Amsterdam is a beautiful, quiet, orderly city,
with numerous small parks where mothers and
children and old people of all classes enjoy the
beauties of nature in near proximity to their
city homes. It is well supplied with canals, too,
which enhance the beauty of the city and at
the same time provide a cheap way of transporting
goods from place to place within and
outside the city. Indeed, the whole country,
which, it will be remembered, was reclaimed
from the sea and ditched for the purpose of
drainage, is beautified by these canals, which
separate farms so that no fences are needed,
and connect with the cities, and so are of very
general advantage, boats being substituted for
wagons.

Rotterdam and the Hague are also fine and
pleasant cities, and Zutphen is a small but very
pretty town with the same air of comfort, etc.
The dwellings in the cities, as well as in the
country districts, are mainly of small, yellowish
brick and quite tasteful, and there is a quiet and
refined taste displayed in personal attire as well
as in home appointments. With a few exceptions,
where certain districts have adopted certain
peculiar (though often pretty) costumes and
colors, the same styles of clothing prevail there
--and indeed, almost all over Europe--as are
in vogue here. With a few exceptions--generally
in country places--we did not find "loud"
colors or uncomely costumes anywhere in
Europe.

As soon as we cross the border line from
Holland to Germany, we feel at once the different
social atmosphere, and are among a
people of altogether different tastes, customs
and ideas. The country homes are less tasteful.
The farmer's family and his cattle are
generally sheltered under the same roof, and
the farming is very generally left in the hands
of the women, the men and the horses being
required for the army and for the pursuits
of city life. Comparatively little of the farm
work is done by machinery. On market days
the country women may be seen by hundreds
coming in on the trains with great loads of
produce in immense baskets strapped on their
backs and often another load on each arm.

We saw one woman at a railway station with
one of those large baskets, holding about two
bushels, on her back, a half-bushel basket on
her left arm and a package in her left hand,
while with the right she supported one end of a
trunk of which her little girl had the other
end. And this was no uncommon thing: the
women are literally beasts of burden. Many of
them are old, gray-haired women of sixty or
more, and often barefoot. It is not uncommon
to see an old woman and a dog pulling a cart
along the middle of the streets, loaded with
milk or with produce and heavy enough for a
horse. Yet, neither through the German cities
nor through the country districts is there any
appearance of want or squalor. The Germans
are an industrious people and believe that thrift
and economy will keep them out of the ditch;
and so it does. Indeed, if it were not for the
pluck and enterprise and hard work of the
women of Germany, where would be her military
glory? Yet, who ever thought of giving any
credit to the poor, toiling wives and mothers
who cultivate the soil and supply the markets,
and thus save the country from famine, in addition
to rearing the children, keeping the
home and tending the cattle? Yet they seem
to do it cheerfully, and no murmurings or
strikes or socialistic sentiments come from them.
They have bent their backs to the burden, and
take it as a matter of course.

In Germany and Austria, some of the principal
cities visited were Hanover, Berlin, Wittenburg,
Leipsic, Dresden, Prague, Vienna, Cracow,
Strasburg, Mayence and Cologne. All of
these cities are evidences of German thrift and
[R1370 : page 58]
prosperity. Berlin is a magnificent city and its
palaces and public buildings are quite imposing,
though not comparable with those of Washington,
our capital city. Its private dwellings are
of a substantial character and of good appearance,
but very seldom does one family occupy
an entire house. They are rented out in single
rooms and suits, the cellars being rented to the
poorest class. It is estimated that one in ten
of the population of Berlin, or over 100,000
people, live in these cellars.

We were most interested here in its military
museum, where the murderous engines of war
of every variety, ancient and modern, are displayed.
As we viewed this dreadful commentary
on man's inhumanity to man, and thought
of the near approach of the terrible conflict of
the battle of the great day of God Almighty,
in which we are even now living, and of the
present threatening attitude of the angry nations,
we rejoiced in spirit as by faith we saw
above the darkening war cloud the white-winged
messenger of peace, commanding that the swords
be beaten into plow shares and the spears into
pruning hooks. Ah! yes, we said, it must
needs be that one more great wave of anguish,
as foretold in the Scriptures, shall roll over the
world, but it will be the last; for after it the
nations shall learn war no more.

Another museum in Berlin displays, in magnificent
paintings and elegant statuary, the symbols
of Germany's greatness and power. In
the rotunda, over the doors and windows, are the
sculptured heads of vanquished enemies, about
four times the life size, in the agonies of dying,
while on pedestals on all sides stood the German
heroes larger than life size. The lofty
ceiling was frescoed by a master hand to represent
the old emperors of Germany as a Roman
Senate in heaven, welcoming Emperor William,
who was borne above the clouds by the angels,
and extending to him a heavenly crown. The
father of the present emperor is also shown as
borne by the angels, and seemingly inquiring
if he too may have a crown. Then there were
dying soldiers on the field of battle also being
received into glory. How strange and inconsistent
the ideas seemed, compared with the
truth. We fear that such hopes will be sadly
disappointed when the heavenly crowns are actually
awarded. The real conquerors of the
world will never rejoice over the dying agonies
of vanquished foes. And, thank God, a truer
heroism will one day displace these false ideas.

At Wittenburg we visited the former home
of Martin Luther, entered his study and sat
in his old chair and at his old study table, beside
the great old fashioned stove, and handled
some of his books. As we went through the
various apartments, including the little chapel,
and looked out of the old windows upon the
same scenes, and then went down to the church
upon which Luther defiantly nailed his thirty-nine
theses, how vividly it brought to mind
those stormy times when the Lord, through the
agencies of the Reformers, began to cleanse his
sanctuary from the pollutions of Rome. The
old church is now undergoing extensive repairs,
and the doors have been replaced by new ones
of metal, in the panels of which are cast the
thirty-nine theses once nailed there. We, dear
friends, have great cause for rejoicing to-day
that, although the beginners of the great reformation
stopped short in the work and went
about organizing other systems of error, nevertheless,
under divine providence, the cleansing
of the sanctuary progressed to completion, and
the golden vessels of divine truth are now being
replaced in order. (See MILLENNIAL DAWN,
Vol. III., Chap. iv.) Our joyous appreciation
of "present truth," which these recollections
revived, can better be imagined than described.

In the cities of Germany there is much pleasure-seeking
on the part of all classes. Plenty
of music and brilliantly lighted beer gardens
in every direction present their attractions, and
are abundantly patronized by the multitudes.
This pleasure-seeking (and finding, too, in their
way) together with military zeal and ambition
on the part of a very large class, and the continual
drudge-life of another class, which, of
necessity, must spend all time and thought for
the meat that perisheth, appear to crowd the
finer sentiments and ambitions into the background,
except in the aristocracy, with whom
we came little in contact.